One Hundred Words
by Jelsemium
Summary: Drabbles are an exerchise in editing as much as they are in writing. Chapter three is up, it's about Poor Alan being Struck Down in the Prime of Life! Oh, the Humanity!
1. Baa Baa Black Sheep

Title: Counting Black Sheep

Prompt: #137 – Black Sheep at the Numb3rs100 Community at LiveJournal  
Author: Jelsemium  
Pairing: Charlie/Amita  
Rating: T  
Warnings: Adults sleeping together.  
Feedback: Feeds the ego  
Disclaimer: Characters are so not mine.  
Word Count: 100 – exactly.

* * *

_"Baa, baa black sheep have you any wool?"_

Amita jerked awake. She listened, but the song did not continue.

She sighed. How could a person be awakened by music in her head? And why that song?

Oh, right, today was the day she, the black sheep of the family, was going to introduce Charlie to her parents.

They hadn't been happy when she'd told them that her boyfriend wasn't Indian or even of Indian descent. She hoped that once they met him, they'd be willing to accept him.

Meanwhile… she snuggled against Charlie's wooly chest and went back to sleep.


	2. Blackest Sheep

Title: Blackest Sheep?

15 Minute Challenge: Office and "Black Sheep" challenge at Numb3rs100 at LiveJournal  
Author: Jelsemium  
Pairing: None, Gen

Characters: Feds  
Rating: K  
Warnings: Passing mention of events in Janus List & Trust Metric  
Feedback: Feeds the ego  
Disclaimer: Characters are so not mine.  
Word Count: 300

Time: 14 minutes to write, 4 minutes to edit.

* * *

Special Agent Megan Reeves propped her hip against her boss's desk, looked over the top of her reading glasses and commanded: "Go home, Don."

Don Eppes squinted at her. His face was covered with stubble and his eyes were tired.

"Can't," he grumbled.

"You're as caught up on your paperwork as you're gonna get tonight," Megan pointed out.

"Yeah, I know."

"So, why aren't you spending Hanukkah with your family?"

"Amita's there."

"I thought you liked Amita."

"Don't get me wrong, Amita's a good kid. But…"

Megan raised an eyebrow.

"Well, she's there as Charlie's intended and…"

"You no longer have an intended," Megan finished.

"Right," Don said. "I'm the odd man out."

Megan sighed. "Well, I guess I can relate, being the family black sheep."

Colby Granger leaned against the cubicle partition. "Really? What got you in bad with your family?"

"Well, I'm only really in bad with my father," Megan said. "Because I was his last chance to have a son."

"Oh, for a minute there, I thought that you'd been spying for the Chinese or something." Colby shook his head. "Last time I went home, the reception in town was so frosty I thought Christmas had come early."

"Even though you were exonerated?" Don asked.

Colby nodded.

"Oh, stop crying on your keyboards," David Sinclair ordered. "I'm the blackest sheep here."

That got everyone's attention.

"You got to be kiddin' us," Don said.

"What makes you think I can't be the black sheep?"

"Boy scouts like you _never_ qualify as the black sheep," Colby asserted.

"What did you do?" Megan demanded.

"C'mon," David said.

They followed him into an interrogation room. David gestured to their reflections in the one way mirror. "So, tell me, which of us qualifies as _**black**_?

Megan and Colby groaned.

"Baa," said Don.


	3. Alas, Poor Alan! Struck Down!

Alas, Poor Alan! Struck Down in the Prime of His Life! Oh! The Humanity!  
Characters: Alan, Margaret, Cute, Innocent Li'l Donnie  
Past Prompt # 59: Father  
Monthly Theme: Violence  
Rating/Category: K+  
Word Count: 200  
Spoilers: None  
A/N: No drinking

Alan Eppes blinked at the ceiling.

"Alan?" Margaret scolded from somewhere out of his field of vision. "Alan! You left Donnie in his high chair… ALAN!"

Oh, good, she'd finally spotted him. The last yell sounded worried. Of course, Alan really wished that she would stop yelling because it was making his head hurt worse.

"Alan, what happened?" Margaret's face hove into view.

"Um, I was feeding your son," Alan said.

Margaret was looking very worried by now. As every parent knew, it was never a good sign when the kid was so definitely designated as yours.

"He was throwing his cereal around."

"I warned you…"

"Then he beaned me with his bowl."

"Ow, but that couldn't have been enough to knock you down!" Margaret protested.

"Well, no," Alan admitted. "I stepped back and slipped on the Cheerios."

He sat up and gently dabbed at his forehead, then checked his fingers. "I'm bleeding!" he said in astonishment (and just a trace of pride.)

"I'll get a band-aid," Margaret said, scurrying off.

Alan looked up at Donnie "That's some pitching arm you got there, kiddo. You should be in the majors!"

As if in agreement, Donnie threw his spoon at him.


End file.
